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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26011507">Outer Control</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Screwyy/pseuds/Screwyy'>Screwyy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Steven Universe (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe, Emotional Abuse, Gen, Physical Abuse, Teen &amp; Up for the themes mostly, and logical, anti-villain protagonist, but like reasonable, era 2 homeworld, evil protagonist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:21:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,092</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26011507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Screwyy/pseuds/Screwyy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Conne finds herself in a space station far from everything she's ever known, struggeling to remember how she got here. What are the gems' plans for her? And why do some things appear so... oddly familiar...?</p><p>((Listen this is 100% self-indulgant Connie-being-a-badass and I-need-more-Era-2-Homeworld. Connie’s the main protag and I like evil protags that make sense. Don’t expect any more than that from me. You’ve been warned. ))</p><p>((I swear the plot picks up in Act 2 tho-))</p><p>Act 1: Chapters 1-7<br/>Act 2: Chapters 8-?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>The room they’re led into reminds of a barrack of sorts. Bed-like structures, padded with strange, gel-like insides to give the vague appearance of a sleeping place. Connie stares at everything through a hazy, blurred filter that didn’t seem to leave her eyes.</p><p>Feeling drowsy, stumbeling, vaguely aware of the presence of other people around her, her mind is preoccupied with the feeling of the world shrinking, being reduced to here and now. She can only see this, only see now, struggeling to remember how she got here. </p><p>Somehow, her body finds one of the beds. The gel adjusts underneath her to suit her bodyshape, and she feels some distant sense of annoyance for the clothes between her and the gel, before her mind starts to spin into the darkness.</p><p>Her last thought is that she distantly remembers the scent of the sea.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>A morning chime rings through the green room. Circuits begin to glow along the walls, the artificial feeling of nighttime clicked off like a light switch.</p><p>Connie stirs, hearing dozens of others stir near her. Her head weighs heavy, but something tells her clinging to her new sleeping spot would be a bad idea.</p><p>The doors to the barracks open with another chime. A green gem stands at the entrance, easily towering above any human she’s ever met. Her limbs end in stouts, fingers free floating, flicking over screens or twitching in anticipation. </p><p>Behind her, two tall quartzes cast a shadow into the room with her. Connie knows that they’re quartzes, at least. Soldier gems. Her memories feel so fuzzy.</p><p>“Rise and walk outside of the room in a line, one after the other.” The green gem lazily flicks over yet another screen, ignoring the tense silence. “Noncompliances will be met with enforcement.”</p><p>She turns and walks away from the door. Connie hears the two quartzes step to the side audibly. The hallway beyond is yellow.</p><p>Connie scrambles to her feet, catching glances of people, young teens like her, they must be, frozen in fear, wide-eyed and confused. She’s on one of the top beds. She stops before jumping down. She’s seen that green gem before, but her memories are nothing but chaos. The deeper she tries to dig in, the less sense everything makes.</p><p>Her hands clutch the green, hard metal frame. She has no idea where she is or how she got here, her head feels like she’s suffered a concussion and these aliens, these gems, brought her to stars knows where. Something tells her they’re not nice.</p><p>She isn’t the first to leave, but not the last, either, finding herself somewhere near the front of the middle. She watches with frozen fear as one of the guards roughly shoves out the last three people, having tried to stay in the barracks. They look at least as confused as she is. She doesn’t know anyone, and fear keeps her quiet, staring in anticipation at the green gem.</p><p>“Task successful. Which is already more than I expected…” She murmurs the last part with no signs of actually trying to hide her annoyance. “Follow me.”</p><p>She walks ahead of the line, one guard in the middle and another guard at the back of the line.</p><p>They walk through yellow and green rooms, doors opening automatically to give them access. Connie tries to focus on the layout of the building, finding that she remembers it with ease. Maybe adrenaline is finally helping her after all.</p><p>They enter a room with some kind of tech lodged into one wall, along with an orb-like, pale green gemstone. More quartzes await them inside, along with gems that Connie hadn’t seen before.</p><p>The guards shove them to their respective places before she can get a better look, and one of the quartzes warns them with a threatening tone to stand still. Connie looks down to see she’s standing in a square on the floor, and quickly confirms that so is anyone else.</p><p>Most others are keeping their heads low as well. Any attempted whispers or murmurs are hushed. The gems that Connie doesn’t recognize are sorely blue against the green surroundings, fumbeling about with some gem-tech, approaching the first person.</p><p>A girl. In fact, did she see any boys around the place yet? She hasn’t, but she hadn’t been looking much, either. No matter how much she squints and tries to turn her head, however, everyone around her appears to be female.</p><p>The girl lets out a sound of protest, and two of the quartz soldiers rush to the blue gems’ sides, holding her down. Connie watches with a clenched jaw as they remove her clothes against her protests. </p><p>Once they’re done and she stands shuddering, hugging herself, shoulders hunched up and terrified, one of the blue gems brings something to the girls chest that Connie can’t quite see. In a flash of light, she’s covered in a full-body suit, compliantly yellow.</p><p>The girl stands somewhat confused, trying to stand straight as the team of two blue gems and two yellow quartzes move on to the next person. Connie relaxes a little. Just new clothes. It could be worse. At least it indicates they’re investing something into this, and that means they at least aren’t due to be killed as the next step.</p><p>She takes the moment to count the rows of the squares: 5x10, set to face the wall with the embedded gem. 50 squares, 50 people. All of their heights are almost the same, despite ages differing. Just never by much. They must all be around her age, somewhere between 13 and 15. </p><p>Maybe they’re all the same age. It’s hard to tell. </p><p>They all seem to be picked from just about every place in the world, from ethnicy to skin color to culture. They can’t all speak the same language, can they? </p><p>She blinks, remembering something from before. Gemsong, of course. Gems don’t actually talk, they give out concepts, and organic brains translate them accordingly. She doesn’t know where she knows that from, and at the same time she feels stupid for forgetting something so trivial. It’s a strange feeling.</p><p>Her turn comes, and she knows there’s no way out of this as is. She should use her strength for struggeling differently, if she will at all. She strips down with shaking hands.</p><p>Maybe she’s used to being judged, or her vision simply aligned luckily, but she sees the tall green gem glance at her compliance and confirm something on one of her screens with a nod. Maybe she made it up, but it almost seems like the gem smiled for a split second. Compliance. She likes compliance, and apparently, even records it somewhere.</p><p>She recieves a yellow gemstone-like device. It weighs heavy and cold in her hands, and one blue gem wordlessly points to her own chest, where her own gem is. Connie places the gem vaguely in the same spot, and with the skin contact, she feels the gem press into her skin on its own.</p><p>She shudders, biting the insides of her cheeks to stand still as a cold shiver runs through her veins, through every cell of her body before white light starts to cover her. The suit fits her perfectly. </p><p>She shudders, again, but does her best to stay calm as one of the blue gems leans in and touches the yellow stone. She smells like snow, and coldness. It glows in response, and Connie watches carefully. </p><p>Connie feels the cold feeling seep into her neck and into her head, then lower into just between her neck and chest… where her voice comes from? After a series of swipes and taps, the blue gem simply nods to the other one, “All done,” and the team of four moves on to the next. </p><p>Connie touches the cold stone. As if in response to her shudders before, the suit feels warm against her skin. It clings to every part of her, leaving only her hands and her head free from halfway of her neck on. Like a really tight turtleneck, but covering everything. As her fingers tap the gem, it vibrates angrily, denying her access like a…</p><p>...like what? There is some kind of tech device, but more casual, something that vibrates when you try to… do something you’re not supposed to…? No, type in the wrong code, that’s it. Or was it when you input the wrong command?</p><p>In any case, the device refused to respond to her no matter what she did.</p><p>Connie decides to quietly clear her throat despite the terror in her limbs, curiosity taking over to find out if her theory is correct. As she does, she feels the device vibrate, echoing back the sound to her. No, not the sound, the… concept?</p><p>Once the blue gems were done, they left with a formal nod to the tall green gem, who formed the diamond shape with her floating fingers in their direction. The door slides closed behind them.</p><p>The green gem went to the wall they were all facing before clearing her throat. “Initiate training sequence alpha.”</p><p>The pale green gem begins to glow, a holograhic screen covering the entire wall, well visible to all of them.</p><p>Connie stares in awe. At the top of the screen is something that looks like it could display the time, but filled with strange symbols. A voice begins to echo through the room, female, soft and pleasant.</p><p>“Greetings to all organics of batch 1-1-Z. I am Techno. I will be educating you on your new lives.”</p><p>New lives? Connie glances around a bit, and finds she isn’t the only one. The voice continues.</p><p>“Requesting initiation.”</p><p>The green gem nods to the gem. “Request granted. Begin program.”</p><p>The screen flashes to life and begins a video. </p><p>Video. Connie thinks she faintly remebers watching videos on screens with other people like her in one room, but the memory faints like a fading dream. She cleches her jaw. There’s no time for that. She has to focus on the now.</p><p>The video explains the diamond salute, gem types, and the concept of time measurement. A cycle equals about 14 earth hours. Unlike gems, they have one down cycle, and one productivity cycle. Each cycle is further divided into units, each equaling 8.4 minutes (since each cycle has 100 units). 10 cycles are called an array.</p><p>The video includes breaks. They even recieve food, a strange nutrient paste tasting like broccoli and bananas and someting sour. The quartzes hand it out to them to avoid them from leaving their places. </p><p>A few don’t eat, and their so called meals are taken away from them wordlessly with no replacement. The taste could be worse. Could always be worse, even if the consistensy of the paste that she had to squeeze out of the strange container left her still feeling hungry for something solid.</p><p>14 hours of downtime didn’t sound too bad. Although, their breaks and eating times are included in that time, and subtracted.</p><p>The gem that seems to be in charge of them is a peridot. So far so good. Could be worse. She keeps reminding herself not to forget that for an alien kidnapping, this could be so much worse.</p><p>The tension in the room begins to lay off. At one of the diamond salute demonstrations, a few people snicker. The quartzes cast warning looks into the room, but boredom and curiosity and the lack of an immediete threat were definitly going to make themselves known.</p><p>Connie focuses instead. If they were giving her information, even if it may be to manipulate her, she has to at least know about it. Understand it. She can’t just let it pass by.</p><p>One of the girls points at one of the gem types being displayed: a pearl with a ridiculously high stacked hairstyle. She must be young, is what Connie thinks as the video feed suddenly freezes to a stop and one of the quartzes march over.</p><p>The girl is right in front of her, and Connie has a perfect view of the quartz grabbing her wrist and pulling at her so hard she lets out a shriek. Everyone else freezes. The human girl cries about something, but the quartz just shoves her back into place and goes back. The video continues once she’s at the wall again.</p><p>Connie can see the girl shudder with fear and pull herself together visibly, rubbing her arm. Right. They don’t toy around. That was to be expected.</p><p>Connie tenses, and focuses on the video, ignoring the pain in her legs from standing for so long.</p><p>The video spends the rest of the time speaking of the diamonds. White Diamond, Blue Diamond, and Yellow Diamond, all vague descriptors, murals, abstract depictions and praises of their glory. Right. Space dictators. Also to be expected, or at least, not surprising.</p><p>It also mentions this training station is owned by Yellow Diamond, making her “their” diamond. Connie touches the cold, diamond-shaped device on her chest. The peridot, the quartzes, they all share that yellow symbol, proud and clear on their chests and dotting their forms.</p><p>That makes sense. She can live with that, right? Surely.</p><p>The breaks pass in total silence, enforced with threatening glares and patrol struts between the rows of humans. </p><p>As the end approaches, the peridot steps to the front, staring them down. “First cycle passed. Now salute, and return to your rest cycle chamber.”</p><p>The shape felt weird to make with her hands. Awkward. She made it anyway, and so did most others. Some took a bit longer. Connie couldn’t see from her place, but apparently one particular girl did not.</p><p>One of the quartzes approaches her, shoving her with ease. “Hey. You heard her. Salute.”</p><p>Connie has to turn her head a bit more than she likes to, but the girl just shakes her head. “No! This is dumb! I’m not gonna let you<em> brainwash </em> me!”</p><p>The quartz looks over to the peridot, who seems to take a moment to read something on her screen. “Unfortunate. However, a minor loss.”</p><p>“What are you talking about! Why won’t you tell us why we’re- hey!” </p><p>The quartz grabs her, beginning to drag her towards the door. Connie shudders, watching her get tugged along with ease, her resistance feathery flutters against solid rock. The peridot waits until the door closes behind the quartz and the screaming girl, and then proceeds as if nothing happened. </p><p>“Very good. Off, to your chamber now.” The peridot makes a gesture with her vague hands, and one of the quartzes goes to the front, giving the first girl at the front left a push. She follows the quartzs, and they all file out, another guard in the middle and one at the end.</p><p>They’re completely silent as they return. Connie’s legs throb, tired from all the standing. Couldn’t they make chairs or something? She’s glad she remembers where her spot is so well. </p><p>She falls onto the weird gel. It’s better to lay on it with the suit than with the clothes, but that’s only a very slight improvement.</p><p>She closes her eyes, and thinks about the day. Or better to say, the past cycle.</p><p>One, she has no idea how she got here, or where she is. Apparently a space station. Her memory is too blurred to think of how to get back, if she could even just remember back to where. Which means that for now, there’s no way out.</p><p>Two, she doubts they’ll see that girl again. The finality with which she was torn out of the room felt so… real. She’s gone. Maybe she’ll never come back. Even if she does, it probably won’t be because she got to rest for a bit. Failure is punished. Hard.</p><p>Three, compliance is recorded. They’re supposed to be learning something, and Connie knows high expectations and a perfectionalist when she sees them. If she doesn’t comply, she might never see the light of day. Or any light at all. If she does, apparently that’s good, even if it just keeps her afloat longer.</p><p>She takes a deep breath. Someone is crying quietly somewhere in the room. Tears sting at her eyes, but she gulps them down hard. She needs to survive. If there’s one thing she remembers, then it’s that she has to survive. And she will. </p><p>The sooner she accepts her fate and strives to be the best, the better.</p><p>She’s out before she knows it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The days seem to repeat, because they watch the same video again, four more times. Connie counts, and she’s sure she can recite gem types by heart now, but it’s getting increasingly hard to focus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the sixth day, there’s a new video. Shorter, taking up only half their time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie tries not to think about the girl that got dragged out that they never see again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They recieve these… wrist devices. They react to touch as well, bringing up a screen not much unlike the peridots. The screen can be moved almost completely freely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the screens are learning programs and something of a score chart. The peridot explains that they recieve points for each successfully learned program, with points in three categories: Compliance, intellect and physicality. They also display their indicators. Connie stares at the numbers. Hers is 1-1-Z16F. First training station, first batch-wave, batch z, number 16, female.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie’s hands twitch as she goes over the screen, somewhat foreign but intuitive menus displaying dozens of still-to-complete intellectual learning programs, from gem-tech to mathematics to strategy to physics and chemistry and space travel and time theory and gem-theory and the hierarchy and gemglyph and anything she can think of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is it. She’s good at this. She can hold onto this. She can do this. Most importantly, she’s better at this than the others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything is scheduled: Sleeping, eating, working, breaks, everything. The pale green gem and the peridot tell them exactly what to do at any given moment, and the wristcomputer gives her a precise order for the learning programs and regular, clear tests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything is clear. Everything is understandable, and despite a few hiccups, she feels herself quickly chew through the topics. She barely feels the time pass until they have to return again. She’ll do this, and if she starts early, she’ll have an advantage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time continues. Upon seeing the third video for the fifth time, their 15th cycle, their program changes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The quartzes lead them through the facility to a new place. The peridot explains once they’re there, a large, glass-covered area showing off the darkness of space. They would come here twice every array, from now on every fifth and tenth cycle. The ground is textured strangely, but allows for a firmer grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The suit has become something of a second skin. It’s thicker where it has to be to be comfortable, around her chest and near her thighs, and almost solid at her feet. Like shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment later, a new gem enters the room. Connie thinks quickly before deciding she must be an agate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The peridot raises a brow at her. “Was there a shift in schedule I was not aware of?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie takes it as a polite way to say “you’re late” to her superior, and she seems to be right as the agate glares at her, causing the peridot to salute in fake apology.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Running feels amazing. Connie runs, hearing the steps of others around her. A lot of people are running too fast, like they always do. Hah. Connie knows the phenomenon far too well by now. She can’t remember from where, but she knows it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she paces herself, despite how good it would feel to just sprint all out. But she has scores to improve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The agate is harsh, cracking her electric whip in the air audibly, causing an increase in speed from even Connie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the break comes, most people crash down almost immedietly, almost having to be forced off to the side by the quartzes until they get up to walk off themselves. Connie continues. Slower than before, but she isn’t going to lose her momentum. She isn’t thirsty, either. Especially not for that strange, bland-tasting water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She isn’t the only one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two other girls determinedly continue to trot alongside her, catching up. They exchange wordless glances, fierce competitiveness in their eyes. Connie can feel the energy bursting in her veins despite her protesting limbs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The agate only watches, but Connie doesn’t miss the peridot tap away at her screen. A light, prideful feeling fights its way into her chest, high on the feeling of success. On the feeling of being the best. Something distant, something long internalized tells her she has to be the best. Always.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The break ends, and everyone groans as they’re sent back to run. It doesn’t take long until someone gives up. The agate only watches. As soon as a few more drop, the agate yells for them to stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got five.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stop, heaving breaths as they gather to her. The five that couldn’t keep up are gathered up. Connie’s heart beats straight out of her chest, ignoring the aching in her body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turns out the five are supposed to fight a quartz. Each.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie watches, knowing exactly how this will go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she watches carefully to see how the fights go. Horribly, but that’s besides the point. Quartzes aren’t very strategic. Neither are the terrified teenagers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie tenses, forcing herself to keep still as she watches the first quartz deck the young girl in the face. Forces herself to stand still as she hears her cry and yell that she gives up, but the quartz isn’t having it. Apparently the agate ends the fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of bruises in the making and screams make her gulp. There’s nothing she can do. At the same time, she’s too afraid to look away. What are the gems supposed to think? That she’s too weak? That she can’t take this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she forces herself to stand still, and watch, and gulp down her fear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fourth video they recieve they watch five times as well. Thankfully, the gems don’t seem to understand what yawning is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie just doesn’t understand. They’re not using the most effective method for this. Everybody stops listening after the second playthrough. It’s not useless, but surely there’s a better way to do this. Everything else is perfectly tailored: The score system, the ranking system, the fact that the higher your overall score is the more to the front they move your square.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the videos. It’s bothering her, but she just tries to focus as she can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Downtime begins as always. She lays down, long used to the suit and the strange gel adjusting to her body. Most of the crying stopped. At least, this night is quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not having fully drifted asleep yet, a muffled shriek pulls her awake. She rolls over to look down to where it came from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A dark figure stands, hovering above the lower bed of the structure closest to her. The person laying down struggles, kicking, moving, shrieking-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie’s instincts react before she does. She’s out of the bed in a moment, throwing her body weight against the aggressor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both teenagers go down as the terrified girl scrambles to get her distance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie tries to hold the other girl down, but she rams one of her elbows into Connie’s face, making her flinch back, allowing her to crawl away. Connie hits the small orange button on her wristband before the other girl tackles her down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie struggles against her grip, but the other girl is stronger, sturdier. Before she can get out, she feels hands squeeze tightly around her neck, just above where the suit ends. The girl is sitting on top of her, preventing her from moving out. Before her vision can go dark, yellow light floods into the barracks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is the meaning of this!” The stern voice of the peridot startles the remaining few asleep awake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A quartz rushes from her side to get the girl off of Connie, and she takes in gasping breaths, clutching her neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite her condition, the peridot turns to her first. “What happened here? Report!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie shakily scrambles to her feet, coughing, but the peridot corrects herself. “No, actually. Who else was involved in this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie wordlessly points at the girl curled up near one of the beds. One quartz goes forth to grab her too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Follow me, all three of you. Prepare to report.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie follows the peridot wordlessly, the other two dragged along with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking tattler.” The girl behind her hisses. Connie doesn’t really feel sorry for someone who just tried to choke her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The quartz pulls the girls arms further behind her painfully, causing her to bite her tongue for the rest of the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They enter a room Connie hadn’t seen before. They’re all stood across a table-like structure built into the floor, while the peridot sits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Now, Z16, your score is the highest, so you will be the most reliable. Report.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie clears her throat, taking in the pleasant surprise. She’s most reliable. That’s not something their peridot says often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she tells them what happened, detail for detail, trying to be chronological. She finishes decidedly. The peridot nods. The agressor, Z41, is dragged away by one of the quartzes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stands, her mind suddenly dead silent. She said what happened. She didn’t lie, not for a second. Neither did the girl that was attacked. She isn’t the one who dragged the girl away, but she feels she could have been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Telling the truth lead to this. They’re escorted back to the barracks, and the peridot says their programs will account for the disturbance during their down time. Connie feels hollow as she goes back. Her and the girl don’t look at eachother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t see the girl that was dragged away ever again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie studied the hierarchy like nothing ever before. Her next move is calculated, prepared, thought-through. If she’s wrong, it will be a hit to her reputation. If she’s right… it could be the greatest oppertunity of her time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks up from her screen. She’s not the first in raking, but close. Third. Two people are left from her, closer to the door. Second and first place, mostly because they overtake her physically. Z12 and Z39.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She breathes deep, and finally submits the form. A request to give a personal report.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hands are fiddly as the end of the cycle approaches, but she forces herself to keep calm. Keep professional. That’s what she’s good at. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The peridot gives her a curious and suspicious up-down look when she shows up at the room on time. The door opened for her. She’s invited, but it doesn’t feel like it. She forces herself to take her place across her peridot, who sits, judging her silently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie clears her throat, saluting before speaking. “Although I understand I don’t have the right nor the proper insight, I wish to give a suggestion report to whomever the supposed improvement would concern.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her peridot studies her, something of curiosity entering her face subtly. “Intriguing. Speak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No going back now. “While the repeat of the same video material over the course of five productive cycles is effective, it is not </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> most effective method… Um, in my non-insightful, organic opinion. I wish to suggest a different order for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her peridot looks at the report she sent, reading along. “I see. You’ve laid out multiple theoretical schedules with suggested video material.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is your basis?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My basis… is my old earth knowledge, that I still have fractions of. And, my own experiences, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Noted. I’m surprised an organic can achieve this amount of properness for reporting, but of course, our Diamond, stars see her radience, didn’t build this facility for nothing. Your report will be processed. That would be all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie salutes again, letting the screen dissapear back into her wristband, heading outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the door slides closed behind her, she breathes out a massive sigh of relief. Well, that went better than she expected. With a bit of a lighter step, with more hope than she’d felt since she got here, she returns to the barracks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She thought, hey, at least they’ll think it over. Or change something for the next batch. Or at least give her compliance points for a nice-to-look-at report. But apparently, gems work a lot faster and more efficiently than she thought, because by the next cycle, Techno announces a change of schedule.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie can feel pride swarming in her chest. She did this. She made a change. She improved it, this place, with her very own achievements and own two hands. Yesterday she did remember what a phone was, but today her mind almost pushes that information back into the void. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who cares for primitive human inventions? She has her place as one of the best, right here. Whatever there was back on earth for her, it must have been worse than this, because she doesn’t miss it.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>SCREAMS there so much plot still ahead and I cANT WAIT TO POST IT AAA</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The arrays drag on, and as she begins to finish some of the last learning programs, two more of their batch are removed for their low performance, Z8 and Z37. Their learning scores didn’t reach the bare minimum, and Connie notices being a little more numb to this than maybe she should be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t matter. This is about her survival. This is about surviving. If she cares for them too much, then she’s next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another three are removed for too low physicality, Z17, Z5, Z29. When she finally completes all her programs, four more left for not reaching the learning minimum, Z2, Z48, Z26 and Z36.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re down to 39 people. Their indicators don’t move up, so she stays Z16.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She has a hard time remembering other people’s indicators except for the two people who overtook her, and continue to do so despite her efforts. They’re just further along physically. It’s not fair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it also isn’t fair that some teens weren’t that far along intellectualy, either. She tries not to think about it. She tries not to think about a lot of things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tries to think about her high scores, and her rivals, and her achievements. She tries to think of her peridots more pleasant expression when she sees her. She tries to ignore the part of her brain trying to tell her that’s pathetic. It isn’t. It can’t be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gems are aliens, so much further along, so much stronger, smarter. They know what they’re doing. And the Diamonds? Technically, a perfect AI is perfectly plausible. If anybody knows what they’re doing, it’s them. Maybe earth was just wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Especially Yellow Diamond. The color has grown so normal, even calming to her eyes at this point. Homely. Familiar. There’s a Diamond there, keeping all this together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s heard her peridot occasionally fall into swooning about her Diamond, perfect and powerful and eternal and perfectly objectively logical. All Connie has ever seen of her are the shadowy video depictions or photos of her murals, and the rare mentions of her from other gems. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sounds like some kind of demigoddess. And if she really is the perfect creator, with a focus on objectivity, resourcefulness and logic, what could be better? It’s no wonder she saw potential within humans, as hard as it is to place them into their flawless world. It’s no wonder she sees potential within Connie. Because she has potential. If she wouldn’t have, she wouldn’t have made it this far. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She has potential. And now, finally, the stars aligned for the perfect initiative to take her off of earth to head for greater things. Because at least the gems realize how good she can really be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she’s thankful to Yellow Diamond. She has to be. Maybe she wasn’t made for her like all the gems around her, but she was chosen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chosen, and given a chance she isn’t going to pass up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once finished with the given learning programs, she’s given advanced ones that she chips away at. Perhaps one of the reasons she must be progressing so well is that she continues tapping away at her screen even during downtime. Working overtime, she thinks it’s called. Must be a word from </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Many arrays later, they’re gathered in a new area, much like their excercise one, but roofed and with a smooth floor. It’s the first of the cycle. Their agate is there, and so is their peridot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their peridot speaks to them once they’ve all saluted. “The first half of your basic training is completed. Your basic physical training will commence from now on. Only on the fifth and tenth cycle will you continue your intellectual work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The punishments and lack of 11 people kept everyone standing dead quiet in compliance. And so, their fighting training began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about holding a training sword felt so… familiar to her. It wasn’t their only training, but it was certainly the one she loved the most. Something about swinging the weight of the metal sword felt intuitive. Even her agate commented that she isn’t too bad, making her swings all the stronger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s behind on physciality points now, but she’s determined to catch up no matter what, ignoring breaks, ignoring the pain in her limbs, ignoring her bruises and the increasing tension between her and everyone else. That’s fine. She was never too social, anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What matters are her scores firstly, and everything else secondly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She counted the arrays before. When the last ones begin to approach, a sense of uneasiness increases with each cycle. Nobody knows what will happen after, and their superiors are tight-lipped as always.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something new is approaching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last cycle, glances between eachother became frequent. Would she even still see anyone? Are they going to remove more once they review the final results? Despite the irrationality of it, Connie’s mind panicked at the thought. What if they removed her? What if there was something she missed, some detail she messed up? Was submitting that report too much after all? What if they thought it shows she thinks she’s smarter than them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The morning chime startled everyone awake. Their peridot and agate are both there to escort them. So there will definitly be something new today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They file out one by one, nervous. She catches the glances of her two most fierce competitors, and despite their odds, there was a familiarity between the three of them, established over glances and even small, hidden smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For some reason, the whole thing clipped in a memory of earth. A last day before the summer break in middle school, getting her grades. The nervosity of it all. She wasn’t alone, but with someone. Her family, she assumes, but she has no idea who they were. She does remember what a school is, though. And she did have a family, but the details are blurry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She presses her lips together, pushing the memory away as they enter their former training area. The stars look down at them overhead, the space above dark as always. The floor, once having felt more comfortable to walk on, felt odd and out of place now. They’re all too used to the smoothness. Harder to move on, technically speaking, but familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re all rowed up. Their agate and peridot stand to the side, both glancing to one of the larger doors. Connie looks over as well, still standing in the salute, waiting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tension is snapped as the doors open to reveal another peridot. Unlike theirs, her gem is in her left eye. Connie never did see where their peridot’s gem is, so she can only assume it’s hidden by her limb enhancers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The peridot walks in, and both their agate and their peridot salute to her. She looks over the gems, then the humans, scrutinizing, analysing, as if trying to catch the slightest mistake. Her gaze rests on them for a good moment before she begins to speak, eyes never leaving them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will be categorized. Group D will gather on the other side of the room. Z4, Z13...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie watches the girls move. One of them she vaguely recognized as one who spoke up against their peridot once. The other one kept falling behind on physicality, just barely passing the minimum. Not a good group to land in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re led away by the quartzes, through the same door that the peridot came through that none of them had ever been beyond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The peridot continues once the doors slide closed. “Group C will gather now. Z1…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie tensely waits, frozen solid in the salute, glancing up to the stars. They gaze back silently, watching the scene far, far below them. She isn’t in group C. Most of those in the group she recognizes as good fighters, people who had given her a hard time during their training before. The two girls that she’d been sharing the top 3 with are still there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once more, the peridot waits until they leave before going on with group B. The tension feels ready to snap. Where are they going to go? Where are they leading them? Is she going to see them again? What was the point of all this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Group B was filled with good intellect, and for a moment Connie expected to be called into it, but no such luck. No Z16. When the b-group leaves, the remaining stare at the eye-peridot like a bunch of terrified mice before their experiment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They eye-peridot tells them to stand in place as she confirms their indicators. And there it is. Z16. She’s in group A, and she’s trying to assume the best, but having no idea what comes next leaves her increadibly tense, wishing time would pass faster just so she could finally find out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The peridot puts her screens away, giving a nod to their peridot before she dissapears through the mysterious large door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie exchanges glances with the others. What just happened? Were they all purged? Moved to different facilities? They don’t dare ask. There’s 10 of them left at best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their peridot steps in front of them. “And you will be following me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They go after, Connie third in the line. They go through the door, and into yet another yellow hallway, no different than the one they know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s quiet, their steps echoing alongside the metal clanks of the peridot’s limb enhancers on the stone floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pass doors on their way, with no idea where they could lead. They just keep going straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the end of the hallway is yet another door. Connie recognizes it as a reinforced one, requiring an authorized gem to open it. Their peridot touches the pad with her fingers, activating the mechanism as the door slides open with a start.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walk through, and it closes behind them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re in a hallway, roofed with glass, showing the stars above… and the training facility all around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie can’t help but stare at the green and yellow section they just left, showing dozens of these sections all with their own see-through hallways leading to a massive, main structure. For a second, she thinks she can spot a group similar to theirs walking through a different, distant hallway just like theirs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holographic letters display the batch indicators, theirs being the gemglyph equivalent to z. Unlike their alphabet, gemglyph consists of exactly 50 letters. 50 batches, each with 50 people. That’s 2500 people total, in the first station, in the first wave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie expected their peridot to tell them off for staring, but to their surprise, she stands patiently at the side, a proud smile on her face, waiting for their attention. Waiting. For </span>
  <em>
    <span>their</span>
  </em>
  <span> attention. Like… an equal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought sends a shiver through Connie, and she catches the gazes of the others, similarly surprised or distraught. Connie straightens her shoulders, even though training corrected her posture arrays ago. They turn their attention to their peridot, who continues to walk until they reach the next door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With another gem-activated mechanism, the door slides open, and they enter a massive hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three murals stretch roughly 100 meters up into the air. Connie stops, jaw agape, her eyes immedietly sticking to the yellow one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She never imagined the murals alone would so huge. Every shape is perfectly geometrical, depicting dozens of planets at the fingertips of an abstracted Yellow Diamond. Only a moment later does she take in that more groups like theirs are standing in the hall. Definitly nowhere near 50 though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just like I thought. We’re early. That’s good.” Their attention turns to their peridot as she speaks. “Congratulations to reaching group A. The letter will be added to your indicators in place of your gendered indicator, as that will lose relevance shortly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie lets the information sink in. 1-1-Z16A.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the middle of the hall is somewhat of a podium that the other groups are beginning to gather around. Much like their group, they communicate in glances and faces, not daring a word. Especially not in these near-sacred halls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie finds that there are male batches, as well, through it takes her a moment to notice, eyes used to focusing on the suits and whatever she should be doing right now to be proper. The groups eye eachother curiously, quietly. The male trainees have the same suits, light suits similar to theirs but made to fit them, and, much alike theirs, treading the fine line between ‘too revealing’ and ‘clothes instead of a second skin’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gem in the middle of the podium is a morganite, colored yellow, brown and red. She’s taller than all of them, but she looks tiny next to the murals. Connie looks around, relief stretching in her chest. She did it. She made it here, with overtime and dedication. She deserves this. She worked hard for it, after all. And everyone else… that’s just how life is now. But she’s better than them. Stronger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More groups file into the hall, giving the same wide eyes and awed stares at the murals. Much to Connie’s surprise, their peridot lazily approaches another, and they chat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a bad outcome, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No kidding. No gem thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> would work,” the Peridot swoons, voice light and prideful, “but of course, our Diamond just knows what she’s doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another peridot, gem on her upper arm, shoves herself to them. “Are you serious? This is amazing! Look at them, and they’re even easier to heard than newly made gems!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second peridot scoffs. “Wouldn’t say easier, and they’re not exactly as efficient. But much more resourceful, that I must admit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their peridot goes on. “Well, the next batches are going to be a lot easier. At least we don’t have to dig up samples from kindergardens anymore, amiright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three peridots break out in quiet, snickering laughter, earning a stern look from the morganite before calming down a bit. But they’re grinning like moms watching their kids graduate, unable to keep a straight face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie looks ahead again, up to the morganite. The morganite clears her throat loudly, causing the other peridots to fall quiet again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is officially your first cycle in the A-group. You will leave behind the basic training facilities and recieve your advanced training in this facility. I am fire morganite, your utmost superior and in charge of this entire station.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While the morganite takes a moment to let her words sink in, Connie spots another gem, a pearl, standing silently near her. Bold, transparent red frills cover her, the yellow symbol on her chest and in her hair like a hairclip. A red pearl, presumably the morganite’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie can feel the superiority and ego radiating off of the morganite as she speaks, the total authority of this entire facility. Her gem is on her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The morganite continues to speak, boredly reading off the words from a screen. “The other groups will be trained to take roles such as pearls, soldiers, calculators and other assisting positions. You have the potential to be more than that. Should you fail your training here, however, you will be moved back to where they are now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The morganite goes on about groups and conditions, where they would stay, how they would train, the jobs they could take. Connie can’t help but cast glances to the murals. She chose to be here, in a way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could always tell them to take her back, to prove some semblence of innocence or humanity by resigning to a place where she would be powerless to change anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or she abandons that part, the part that keeps resurfacing as unwelcome memories of blue sky and colorful notebooks and the sound of rain pitter-patting on windows. What good does it do her now? Earth is nothing but a distant dream at this point. Who knows if earth even still exists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it would be easier on her conscience if she knew earth is gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. She has to pull herself together. Survival isn’t over yet, and neither is her training. She made it this far, but her competition is still there, close and real as ever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...your nurishment times will be replaced with coordinatings. That is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The morganite concludes and steps off the podium, her pearl tapping after her quickly to keep up with the taller gem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their peridots linger a bit longer, waiting, until three agates enter the room. White, yellow and green. The white agate has her gemstone in her forehead, the green one on her back, and the yellow one on her outer thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The peridots salute to them, and start to head back to their batch branches, each through their own of the 50 doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The agates nod to them as they all salute, and lead them deep into the yellow and green reaches of the facility.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie stares at the glittering yellow liquid in the vial. It looks like liquid metal, and just about the last thing she would put in her body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she’s ordered to, and the gems around her know what they’re doing, surely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glances to the others, and suddenly notices the glare of one of the agates. Fear flinches up in her and she downs the contents of the vial without second thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It tastes like metal, too. She runs her tongue over her teeth while she watches the others follow her example. The roughly 500 of them were further divided into groups, but there’s still more people around her than she wanted to have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gulps again, feeling the metal linger in her throat and stomach. She felt sick, and like a rash that was spreading through her whole body. She shivers unwillingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A voice speaks from the walls. “Congratulations, group 1-1-A! You are officially no longer mere organics. You are now designated as: Marked.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Connie wakes up to the morning chime, freezing for a moment at the silence before realizing that she’s alone. She relaxes. She’ll have to get used to sleeping in her own room. Small, but still her own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sits up, checking her screen for her upcoming schedule. She freezes, again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Changing the settings of the screen, she tries to come as close to a mirror as she can. When she looks into it, her eyes are yellow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An unnatural, intense kind of yellow, burning itself into her mirror image. If she wasn’t mistaken, they seemed to glow, too. Or do they reflect? Probably the latter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gets up, not used to sleeping on a bed at the bottom, though she doesn’t notice her suit or the gel anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yellow eyes. That was essence, wasn’t it? A piece of Her Diamond, shaping her to fit in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shivers, and tries not to think about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t really miss eating after arrays of gulping down that paste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Programs are intense, and she continues to work alone and well overtime despite their breaks no longer subtracted from their downtime. There’s nothing more useful for her to do, after all, and she might as well be more efficient than everyone else. It’s proven quite fruitful so far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her steps echo dully through the halls, her screen up just to remind her she has only half a unit to walk through the correct door. Despite stretching her steps - running is reserved only for emergencies and considered impolite - she arrives a fraction of a unit late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door slides open upon recognizing her, and she steps through it. Her first coordinating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the descriptions, they’re finally allowed to talk to eachother. Supposed to, in fact, because the digital sheet declaring all of organic needs includes socializing. Basic trainees don’t have that luxury, but anybody not discarded recieves it upon entering advanced training.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie picks herself a seat, still not used to being able to sit down to work. Another luxury, this time reserved only for the A-group. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The desks are all vaguely facing somewhat of a stage. It’s supposed to be used by marked human pearls, but for the first wave, gem pearls are assigned. Their designs reference eachother and mirror eachother symmetrically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Calming, synth-like music softly wafts through the room, melodic and rythmic. Connie forces herself to relax. They know what’s best for her, and she really has to stop denying all of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pearls are dancing, twirling, light on their feet and yellow light catching in the green, orange and red fabrics. Their dancing is rythmic and mindless, letting her mind rest as her eyes follow the lights and the glitter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wall gems sing along to the music, adding their choir voices to the sounds in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie’s eyes wander about. Apart from other A-group trainees like her, the morganite sits boredly on a seat reserved seperately for her, along with the three leading agates, the eye-gem peridot, and multiple gems that Connie doesn’t immedietly recognize. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three of the gems are out-of-place blue, the same gems that adjusted their suits. Ionites, she knows now, directly from the blue court, thus automatically part of the elite, responsible for the suits of all organics in the facility. While most only visit to do suit adjustments, three of them are stationary enough to attend these coordinatings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They seem to be comparing designs on their screens, all wide hand gestures and elegant waves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few gems are white with black accents. Cerussites, all star-shaped hairstyles and sharp outfits. They’re in charge of peridots and otherwise intellectual projects, research and keeping things in order where chaos was likely. The eye-gem peridot sticks close to their shadow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Near the morganite and the top agates, yellow dyscrasites are keeping a sharp eye on the agates and quartzes of the room, while the morganite occasionally checks on the cerussites and dyscrasites. All in one complex pyramid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All gems are closer to the stage than any marked, and a large gap of seats is between them and the gems, supposed to be for them when they complete their training.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie knows the eye-peridot is supposed to be keeping a close eye on them, but more as a secondary task. When they complete their training, they’ll sit between the gems and trainees, keeping a close eye on the former, and being watched by the latter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last marked enter the room, taking their seats. One of them sits down next to her. From a male batch, although that no longer matters. Her research into the metal liquid told her that humans were no longer fertile after ingesting it. A small price to pay for supposed immortality, but it made the differenciation between male and female redundant to gems.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To her other side sits a young woman, and glancing over at her Connie is suddenly reminded that they still have plenty of growing to do. She’s, what…. how old is she? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How old is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Connie</span>
  </em>
  <span>? She feels like she’s about to be an adult, but their training can’t have been that long. She must be around 15... at best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She feels small for a moment, but forces herself to straighten her back. Where are the two she knows? They’re allowed to walk around, but over a hundred arrays of enforced compliance causes everybody to sit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She meets eyes with one of them, and looks at her properly for the first time. Her eyes are the same piercing yellow that Connie’s must be. She’s… what z again? She looks it up on her screen. Z12. Nothing better than number indicators to make people forget them, and with them, individuality. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> more effective overall, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks back, but they both look away after a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie takes a deep breath. They’re allowed to move, she knows it. She’s read the rules five times now. She knows. Then why is it so terrifying to get up first?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She has to show that she’s the best. Better than them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulls herself together, and stands up. Eyes fly to look at her, and the marked are dead quiet for a moment before she tries to calmly walk over to the girl she just met eyes with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mind scrambles to come up with some reason for conversation. Work, of course, but what part of it? She picked a hierarchy focus in her intellectual training for her advanced training so far. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Z12.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl looks up at her, and as their eyes meet, she sees the silent challenge in them, and stands up as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Z16. I thought you’d stick to your corner and work overtime?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie raises a brow at her. “I’m offended you think I’d disregard schedule.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Z12 snorts and rolls her eyes. “Ooof course.” She goes on once her grin calms down to a smile. “I can’t wait to overtake you in battle training.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something fiery rises in Connie, a confidence she rarely feels. Her voice is bored and dry. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry you’ll never get to see it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Z12 crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Oh-ho, really? That confident? Cool. We’ll get to test your bark against your bite soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie smiles a bit. “I’m only looking forward to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Z12 tsks in her direction, and Connie finds that a murmur was covering the marked rows as people began to talk. Some others were standing. Quiet, almost supressed laughter sounded from one corner as the atmosphere warmed up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie looks over the room, glancing to the eye-peridot for validation, but she’s busy watching her superiors. Connie internally scoffs at herself. She should do things not for the validation, but because they’re right. The group started talking, and she encouraged them to follow schedule. That in of itself should be a good thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She returns to her place, but she couldn’t just pull up her screens and start working now after her retort to Z12. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl next to her was quietly whispering with her other neighbor, so Connie turns to the left, instead. The teenage boy still sits, fiddeling with his wristband. Once he notices Connie look at him, he perks up, back straight and eyes open and curious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His smile is a bit off, but he’s definitly doing his best trying to look adequate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clears his throat a bit shyly. “You’re Z16, right? Your peridot was talking all about you to our peridot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stops, but tries to keep her composure. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes are wide, full of awe. “Yeah! She says you’re the one who adjusted the video schedule, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie finds her own hands going to her wrist band as well. “I just submitted a suggestion report, is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s quiet for a moment, nervous, unsure what to say before he goes on. “I’ve read it! Um, G38 thinks it’s really good, too. I’m sure you’ll go far.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie can feel some pride rise to her chest, trying not to blush in embaressment. “Thank you, but it’s just what felt right, is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face grows a bit more serious, nodding. “Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie turns back to her wristband, resisting the urge to summon her screen before focusing on the stage instead. The pearls continue to dance, nimble, thin and swift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t know if she’s just making it up, but she thinks she can see some people glancing over to her before quickly looking away. She had no idea anybody knew about her report, not to mention they all know her from the way she pulled attention to herself by standing up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is she… known? The thought is strange. She never thought of herself as all too great, but maybe… maybe she’s better than she thought. The thought almost makes her giddy, but she keeps her emotions low. It would be inappropriate to show them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Battle training felt relieving, more like a break than coodinatings did. Swinging the sword felt intuitive, and with every clash, she felt herself grow sturdier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even then, she felt she had to train when she was off and alone. Standing in her room, when nobody was looking, she would go through the motions again and again, until she felt she could measure up to anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Battles got quicker, her training sword heavier, wounds from training deeper on both sides. Like water slowly grinding down a cliff, she felt number and number to slashing her sword straight into flesh and blood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In distant moments, when she’s trying to memorize rare gem sub-types or mineral compositions, when she’s staring out into the stars or at the green wall of her small room, memories slip back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Memories of laughter, of dark stars drowned out by streetlights, the sounds of cars signaling and passing by, the feeling of sitting in the back seat and slowly being cradled to sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She closes her eyes. Even more distantly, in a place she can’t quite recall, she remembers the scent of the sea. Ocean waves crashing onto white sand, the sun burning on her skin causing her to sweat - her suit prevents her from sweating - while seagulls give their cries up ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was more. She knows there was more. There had to be, but like a dream she couldn’t remember, trying to hold onto the memories or dig deep was like trying to hold water while it ran through her fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she’s progressing. Slowly, piece by piece, she’s remembering. Maybe one day she’ll remember the sea, and remember whatever it is that causes her eyes to sting with tears when she thinks of it.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ayyy I aint dead yet! Definitly have a ton more written but im sweating while my buffer runs out</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s a special day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie stands with the other A-group trainees in the main hall, the murals towering high above. Eye-peridot walks in and gets a group of 10 before dissapearing for a while. When they come back, the marked are wide eyed and silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s making her antsy, but she gulps the feeling down. After what feels like an eternity, it’s her turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eye-peridot states that half of their training is done. From roughly 500, they’d moved down to roughly 450, and the peridot insists that this test will rid of many.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie keeps herself tense, prepared for anything. But she’s determined to do this, to endure, whatever it is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other 9 marked follow along silently. She knows them vaguely, but she prefers not to get attached to anyone. She’s used to not getting attached to people, from before. The skill does her well here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walk through a series of service hallways they hadn’t been to. An eerie silence hangs over these hallways, broken only by the rythmic hum of circuits and gem-tech living in the walls, working away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a series of doors and a warp down to a seperate part of the station, the peridot finally stops in front of a door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She activates a pad, waiting for a moment as the reinforced door slides open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The group files in quickly. When Connie sees what the room has to offer, she freezes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A quartz is holding down a human, eyes an ordinary green-blue. Green shakles are binding the human’s hands behind his back. He stares wide-eyed at their yellow eyes and yellow suits, brighter and dotted with the yellow symbol more frequently than his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie knows immedietly what they have to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eye peridot brings up a screen, calm as ever. “10 organic failures will be brought into this room. P50, you are first in order, but the order is irrelevant so long as each gets one task… done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>P50, 17 at best, stands dead-silent, staring at the human in the middle of the room. His feet are bound as well, and when the eye-peridot nods to the quartz, she lets the human go and he thuds to the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The quartz calmly heads to the door as all eyes move to P50. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eye-peridot continues talking when nobody moves. “Those who do not complete the task by the end will be downgraded without further evaluation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So that’s why they were told to bring their weapons. The sword at her hip feels heavy all of a sudden. Connie shakes her head to herself. This is neccessary. It doesn’t matter who does it. Without this, the system just doesn’t work anymore, and she knows that better than anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks at the others. Nobody meets her gaze. Fine then. Fine. Just another chance to shine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She steps to the front, pushing P50 out of her way before unsheathing her sword and weighing the blade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now or never. A whine escapes the teen. Connie pushes the thought down. So? She’s a teenager still, too. So is everybody else here. So is everybody that was discarded before. That doesn’t matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cold, iron will overtakes her, pushing down all second thought she’d ever had. She has an order, and she’s going to follow it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lifts the sword, and his outcry falls deaf on her ears. When she lifts the sword, blood runs down it quickly. With a quick shake, the blood cleanly rolls off the sword, leaving it clean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sheathes it back to her side, turning around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cowards.” She hisses at the group of marked as she takes her place at the back, and the peridot once more marks a positive point on her score.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The night chime sounds as her room darkens. She stares into the blackness, listening to the faint hum of gem-tech. Usually it helps her fall alseep, but tonight her thoughts are fluttering about her head in panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t feel like because it’s what she had to do today. But there was a memory, resurfacing, somewhere deep in the chaotic cluster of pictures and colors and concepts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She closes her eyes. Somebody, something… There was… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes fling open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like with the click of a switch, she remembers them. Her mother’s face, stern and worried, fixing her clothes for her first day of school. Her father giving her a thumbs up before they do their own handshake that he came up with while her mother watches in exaggerated dissapointment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her father standing by her bed when she couldn’t sleep, telling her about space, about the infinity of the stars and how anything out there is possible. Her mother making her breakfast in the morning, squeezing in time wherever she could, but it’s never enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie’s eyes sting. It’s never enough, and their home stands silent and alone, and her mother rushes off to work, her back turned, growing more and more distant, the rules growing more strict. Her father is too tired to talk to her, too stressed from work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s never enough. How could you only get an A- on chemistry, Connie? Weren’t you studying? Was there something you didn’t understand? Why didn’t you ask the teacher for help? Why didn’t you do better?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She curls up, pressing her hands into her face. Why don’t you have friends, Connie? Why don’t you just talk to the right people? Why are all the friends you try to make so bad at school? Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> they’re not just using you to get better?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hasn’t cried in a long time, but now sobs shake her frame. She has answers to all of these questions, but they fall quiet, fall flat, because nothing she could answer would be good enough, nothing she could say would matter. Why don’t they listen? Why didn’t they ever listen?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She continues to sob, the suit absorbing her tears once the hit her arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She roots her feet firmly into the ground, eyes fixated on her opponents. The lead three agates. They’d laughted at her, but it doesn’t matter. Not when she plans on having the last laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The white agate summons dual shortswords, charging forward blatantly. Agates are more strategic than quartzes, but they certainly have their weaknesses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie dodges the slashes easily using the distance to her advantage, using the momentum of the agate to step behind her and slash into her back. Despite the chance to push the blade all the way in, she turns, barely blocking a hit from the yellow agate’s hammer before it hits her skull.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the yellow agate raises her hammer again, she dashes clear of the two agates, calculating her next move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The green agate is caught behind them, clearly pissed to be at the back with no way to get involved. Will white or yellow charge first?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With another coordinated step, she aligns herself so the green agate is exactly behind the white agate. As the white one is about to attack, the yellow one rushes forward, ignoring her in favor of swinging her hammer at Connie again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Connie dodges the weapon, agitating the agate with every single hit she misses, she spots the green agate pushing the white one aside roughly to get in on the action. Which, if the white agate’s shriek of anger is anything to judge by, is exactly what Connie wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The white agate is caught behind the two as Connie moves backwards, preventing all three from circling her as she dodges both the hammer and the green agate’s double-bladed sword, a dangerous weapon to be around when in the hands of an angered agate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie keeps dodging, keeping the white agate behind the yellow one… which she wouldn’t be taking much longer. With a swift step, she steps towards the green agate, risking it by coming in close quarters, just to watch the white agate push the yellow agate out of her way and into the green agate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While the green and yellow agates are reoccupied with eachother and Connie is blocking the white agate’s swords coming down in rapid succession, she moves in a half circle, away from the wall, once more allowing her to move backwards fast enough to prevent them from circling her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlike the other two agates, the white agate knows no such thing as rage-induced mistakes. Connie tries to step away, but the fight takes up her full attention while the other two agates get back up and charge at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Much to her surprise, the white agate grits her teeth, gulps down her pride and allows the yellow agate to charge at Connie. She knows she doesn’t need to lift it much to deal sufficient damage, but anger and frustration was getting to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie plays weak, plays slow for two more hammer hits until the yellow agate reels the hammer all the way back, and Connie thrusts her sword forward and straight into her chest, right next to her gem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The agate poofs, and Connie barely dodges another slashing blade from the green agate. The white agate gives a growl of frustration, her group tactic only having gotten one of them poofed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both charge once more, and Connie finds herself dodging too much and slashing too little, three blades in her direction at all times being more than she can efficiently fight against. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she knew that. Oddly enough, two agates are harder to fight than three.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She focuses on the blades, on the clashing metal. What are their flaws? The yellow one’s were anger, emotional honestly, pride, upfrontness. A chest gem. The other two are certainly prideful, but with only two of them, they get much less in eachother’s way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The green agate has her gem on her back, and the white agate has her gem on her forehead. Head… logic. And what kind of logic do they teach agates? That they’re factually stronger than anybody beneath them. Gem logic and ordinary logic, she’s learned, are two slightly different things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The white agate thinks she’s going to win eventually. She’s not afraid of losing the green agate. She thinks she’ll win, even alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The green agate hides her emotions, with no way for Connie to know what she’s thinking other than that she’s the third agate in ranking. And any gem, any agate, hates to be after anybody else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants to prove herself, and she’s going to really give it her all if she has to. She won’t want to be graceful like the white one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie focuses her efforts on the green agate, having recognized her as the more dangerous opponent. The white agate, clearly disregardent of the green one, cuts in between their fight. Connie dodges her uncoordinated slash easily as they get in eachother’s way, and by kicking one foot away underneath the green agate, she swiftly turns her into a cloud of dissapating smoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The white agate pulls back a bit, staring at her calmly before engaging again. This time, however, she’s alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie can’t help a small grin as she pulls out her full abilities, faster, stronger, quicker, blade meeting blade, each clash of metal only encouraging her further. Confidence fills her chest as her full focus speeds up the fight. She can definitly take one agate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a single wrong move, the white agate gives herself free for attack, and Connie charges her all at her, slamming her down to the ground and lodging her sword deep into the agate’s head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She poofs, and Connie straightens herself. She pants, her suit absorbing any skin fluids and cooling her down. Sweat still gathers at the back of her neck, absorbed by the suit once it beads down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The walls lower, revealing Morganite, more trainees like her, and two more agates. Morganite’s pearl rushes forth to gather up the agate gems as Connie walks out of the fighting area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morganite nods towards her before speaking up, her clear-cut voice free of all of it’s usual boredom, silencing the gems and marked in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“1-1-Z16A, with this display of ability, I have no choice but to give you agate status.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie notices how tense her voice is. The marked murmur, yellow eyes watching her only when Connie isn’t looking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a single second, it clicks. Morganite isn’t happy about this. She isn’t happy about this at all. She’s scared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie takes her place at the wall as the marked look at her in awe and admiration, filling her with pride. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because if Connie can reach agate status, a gem status already higher than anybody expected, then she can reach other statuses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like dyscrasites and cerussites.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or morganites.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was out of boredom, but at one point, Connie decided to re-calculate her time here back into earth years. Mostly to find out how old she is exactly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She blames the returning memories for her curiosity as she taps at the screen. 17. She’s 17, nearing 18 in about 24 arrays.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, that’s that. She pulls up her most recent project again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unlike most others, she was still in training, aiming for a higher position. Quite a few had left to be agates, or, if her project was successful, they’d become generals. She would bring more of a unique structure into the marked yellow court.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And, if she’s lucky, net herself cerussite status.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A chime sounds from her screen, pulling her attention to a notification. She’s due to present her project soon, and the only problem she has is that she would be presenting it to Morganite. She just hopes the gem will be reasonable enough to look at the facts instead of her increasing anxiety about her position.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her presentation concludes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The screen powers down, and she watches Morganite in anticipation. Morganite’s personal guard stands outside, not to hear the contents of the project.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morganite looks at her screens, reading them over again. She gives Connie a piercing look, but Connie holds her ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room has a large screen covering the entire wall across from the door. Near the door stands Morganite’s pearl, happily waiting to be needed. Morganite has a desk in the middle, facing the large screen, sitting while gems and marked alike would stand while they present their cases.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a soft sigh, she can see the Morganite cave in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your presentation is appropriate. However,” Morganite stands, still an intimidating height before Connie, ”I do not hold the authority to make such decisions. I give you permission to attempt to hold your presentation in front of adequate authority.” Morganite clears her throat, correcting herself. “Rather, you may request to do so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Request in form of a report? To whom?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morganite sits back down, glancing at her screens to not look Connie in the eye. “Yellow Diamond.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quietly, she adds, with a sense of awe to her voice Connie didn’t think the egotistical gem was capable of, “may the stars see her radiance.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie’s heart hammers in her chest. She stands in the main hall. Rarely, peridots, quartzes or marked would pass by.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One of the doors open, and Yellow Pearl steps in, every step graceful and elegant. Two topazes accompany her, hulking giants next to her frailty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pearl approaches Connie, completely yellow from head to toe. Connie represses the urge to salute, but she’s not below even a diamond’s pearl, nor a topaz guard, as strong as they may be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Marked 1-1-Z16A. Your report has been recieved. My Diamond has sent me to personally inform you that you will be holding your presentation </span>
  <em>
    <span>in person</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The pearl places an amount of strictness and scolding into her voice that Connie didn’t think was possible for a pearl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You will arrive on time. You will behave adequately, and you will, under any and all circumstances, uphold your total respect before Yellow Diamond..”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie gulps and nods, and the easy smile returns to the pearl’s face. “A pleasure to have seen the best marked so far. If you would excuse me, I must return to My Diamonds side.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pearl turns, and the topazes follow her out of the main hall in silence. Connie’s eyes wander up to the yellow mural, stretching upwards seemingly indefinitly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie straightens her back, her posture perfect as she walks the massive halls of Homeworld. Despite the jaw-dropping view from the window, she doesn’t dare turn her head to look, following yellow topaz guards to the warp pad tower.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They arrive, the tower crawling with quartzes and topazes. A dyscrasite stands in the middle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“State your purpose.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie speaks, keeping her voice loud and clear. “I am 1-1-Z16A. I’ve been requested to present my project to Yellow Diamond shortly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dyscrasite checks her screens. She squints at Connie dissaprovingly, but steps to the side to allow her to step onto the warp pad. She waits a moment for the topazes to take their places before she warps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A massive, yellow hall greets her. Before a door that reaches as high as the mural, more topaz guards are waiting. In front of the door stands a Cerrusite, flanked by two zircons, discussing something in hissed and panicked voices, moving about dozens of screens.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hall has a second door as large as the first, presumably because Yellow Diamond walks these hallways. Connie gulps down her fear, hoping her sweat doesn’t show too much as she walks up to the three disputing gems, taking her place near them, but not too close.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cerussite looks over to Connie, wrinkling her nose at her in disgust before pointedly turning away and continuing her vivid discussion with the zircons. Connie tries to ignore them. Gems not from the facility aren’t used to humans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything is yellow. The murals, of course, but even the massive windows are tinted yellow, allowing a view onto Homeworld.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie pulls her attention to her screen, going over her presentation once more. If gems are that nervous about seeing their Diamond, then she should certainly be twice that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a while, the massive door opens, and Yellow Pearl steps through. An azurite towering a head higher than even her morganite walks out, followed by her pearl and two blue quartz guards. Yellow Pearl calls the cerussite and the two zircons inside, and the massive door closes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie steps a bit closer to the door, the two topazes always closeby. She reads over her screen. She looks at the view of Homeworld through the yellow tinted windows. She stares at her feet. She stares at the door. She reads over her presentation again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stares at the murals, trying to imagine what Yellow Diamond looks like. There was only a vague common thread between them, the depictions abstract and vague. If only the Diamonds could be a bit more like old time human kings. Then there would probably be a life-sized, realistic portrait hanging around for her to prepare herself with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door opens, and the cerrussite and zircons step out along with their own topaz, escorting them to the warp pad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yellow Pearl looks to Connie and gestures her inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie keeps herself straight, walking after with precise steps, ready at a moment’s notice. She follows the pearl. Another massive hallway lined with yellow topazes follows, until finally, through yet another massive door, she sees the throne room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>More murals are along the walls, more topazes blending in with the walls. Connie catches a glimpse of the massive gem, surrounded with hundreds of screens. Yellow Pearl nimbly jumps back to her Diamond’s side, standing at attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie reaches the yellow marking in front of the throne telling her how far she’s allowed to step, and kneels, eyes on the floor. “My Diamond.” she says, trying to keep her voice loud enough, but not a yell. Not too calm, not too nervous, but in reverance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yellow Diamond finally looks down to see her, flicking one of the screens to the side and opening a different one. “Report.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“1-1-Z16A, ready to hold my presentation on the advanced structuring of efficiently-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The massive gem cuts her short. “Just start.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right, of course. She can’t waste Her Diamonds time with things she already knows. Connie stands up, saluting, trying to keep her fingers from trembling as she brings up her screen and clears her throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I propose the forming of a human yellow court instead of attempting to inefficiently integrate marked into the existing structure of the Gem Empire.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie steps through the halls of the training facility, her steps loud and clear. She makes her way straight up to top, the hallway in which Morganite resided in. The door slides open for her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morganite turns to look at her, and Connie stems a hand into her hip, making no efforts to salute. A slight smile plays around her lips, and a moment later a message enters Morganite’s screens.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gem stands up. Her pearl swiftly gathers up her things and the room shifts, resetting to it’s default state, a blank room with four plain walls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She watches the two gems leave, the quartzs guards looking at her, not quite knowing what to do. Connie turns to them. “You stay here and guard this room. You’re stationary now, no need to follow me around.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both salute to her with a synchronized “Yes, my Morganite”, taking in their places.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie places a hand on the wall, accessing the room’s many features. She needs a good working space.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had quite the large project to finish, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Over the arrays, slowly, marked filled the facility, gradually replacing almost all gems within - except for quartzes, agates and dyscrasites. Military gems were just plain automatically better, crueller, and colder at their job.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly, her memories returned. Something key was still missing, something about the scent of the sea she still couldn’t quite get. But everything else… her attempts at finding friends, her family, school, her plans for the future, earth. Not that it matters anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Would she even go back if she could? What does she have on earth, anyway? She was just a face in the background. Nobody knew her. She’s sure nobody misses her, either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She matters here. She gets to show her full potential here, and that’s not something she could do on earth. She’s good enough for here, but apparently not good enough for earth. So be it, then. She likes it here more anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she’s important here. She gets to have a healthier schedule, continue to learn, work, everything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing to be afraid of, ever again. Not afraid of being left behind, not afraid of being forgotten, and finally part of something large and important.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stands at the beach, ocean waves crashing to her feet. She spreads her arms, closing her eyes as the cool ocean breeze passes by her, making her clothes flutter. She laughs, turns. Someone is there, someone she knows, a friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t remember who, and for a moment, she can’t see. Where they would be, there’s a shifting figure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She asks them who they are, but they just laugh, giddy and happy, a distorted sound. The wind picks up, and suddenly, green light covers the sky, the ocean, the beach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wind knocks her down to the ground, and she spits out sand as she looks up. Four figures, all familiar, drawing their weapons and charging. She screams, screams at them to stop, to wait for her, to let her help, but her cries fall on deaf ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A massive green hand comes down from the skies, engulfing them, and they scream as it pulls them into the void of space. Connie calls after them, seeing them struggle, trying to fight back, but the sky swallows them whole.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silence. The scenery around her glitches, stutters, until suddenly, there’s a crash.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The green hand comes crashing down, but this time she’s at her house.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She slams the door open, running, running towards the massive green explosion. She runs, but she doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere no matter how hard she tries. A voice speaks to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s better this way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She keeps running, pushing, her legs in pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m doing this for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, no, that’s not fair, she doesn’t want this to happen, she has to be there! She has to get there, before they leave her behind, before he forgets about her, before he… he…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow, she’s at the beach. Green pieces of the ship lay scattered about, some still burning an unnatural green fire. She has to find him. She sifts through the wreckage, turns over every rock, every piece of metal, turns every corner, yelling and searching and running around until she collapses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The voice is familiar now, coming from somewhere far away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re better off without you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She startles awake, heaving breaths. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steven. The crystal gems. Pearl, her mentor, teaching her to fight. Steven and his magical destiny. Amethyst. Garnet. Her mother telling her to stay away from magic. The green ship, taking them away. Steven telling her it’s too dangerous for her, and they can’t see eachother ever again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her parents deciding to move away again. The painfully lonely times that follow as she refuses to talk to anybody, convinced she lost the only friend she’d ever had, and the only shot at a vaguely interesting life she’ll ever get.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It all comes flooding back, and she sits there, wondering how she ever forgot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a serum, she knows that now, as leader of the facility. A substance meant to make you temporarily forget your old life. By the time it returns, it’s already too late.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She slowly lays back down. That’s why she knew what gemsong was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She lays there, amidst the quiet hum of the circuits. It’s been more than 4 years now, if she isn’t mistaken. Four years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hum of the room slowly convinces her to sleep, her body exhausted after finally bringing up what she’s repressed for so long.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Step 1: Listen to Full Disclosure. <br/>Step 2: Try not to cry. <br/>Step 3: Cry. A lot. <br/>Optional Step 4: Listen to this cover and cry even harder: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Qe1xYOG9XM</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don't forget to Kudos if you liked it!</p><p>Comments and feedback of all kinds are warmly appreciated!</p><p>(Read: I LIVE ON COMMENTS.)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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